(sweet-ass chart courtesy of Janna Dotschkal)
OUT OUT OUT OUT OUT OUT OUT
The POYi chat room is a terrifying place. It might as well bear a sign proclaiming, ‘Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here,” or “Abandon All Rules of Grammar and Spelling.” Seriously, can any of you guys spell? For more fun, visit poyichatroomheroes.tumblr.com. If you look carefully, our writers make a few cameos.
We feel sorry for the poor souls watching the livestream and seeing their year of hard work fly by. It hurts even worse if it gets past the first round (and in some cases, it’s pulled in, kicked out, pulled in, then kicked out again. Melissa Lyttle has got to be weeping into her glass of Fat Tire right now).
Thanks to the miraculous interwebs, we all get to voice our opinions, because they obviously matter so much. If it’s not bad enough to hear the deputy photo editor of the NY Times digging into your work, you have to deal with ‘guest 4’ bitching about how hard you suck. Spoiler alert: you suck so hard. Even the popcorn man thinks so.
The chat room has also made many feel as though their opinions are holier than the photo gods. Chatting with the legends doesn’t make you one. Since when did ‘Will from Will and Grace’ become a photo expert? You want to define a category? Go call Rick Shaw, POYi organizer. We’re sure he would just love to hear your brilliant thoughts.
It doesn’t matter if you have a great, fucking photo that contains all of the layers (all of them), sweet light, and amazing colors. If it doesn’t involve a revolution, kiss it goodbye. Does your picture story end in death? No? OUT.
As most of you assholes probably already know, the almighty POYi competition started this week and World Press is in the works.
Photojournalists around the world have spent hours sifting through the dump folders in each of their five hard drives, all in the hopes of finding the perfect image to submit to esteemed photography contests.
Something about contests put photojournalists into fucking hyper drive. Even the most conservative toner will throw their typical curves layer out the window in the name of adding one line to their resume.
You have a nice picture right there. But it’s not good enough. It’s not contest worthy. Desaturate it. Pull out the black. Overexpose your whites. Don’t forget the noise. Throw on a fucking vignette, and you’ve got a winner. Any self-respecting photographer will bitch about contest-toning, but you know what? We all fucking do it, every last one of us.
Besides, the fate of your future as a photojournalist lies in the hands of a few hand-picked judges, anyway. If four people don’t like your work after seeing it flash on a screen for two seconds, than you’re doomed. You might as well give up now.
Photography is about passion? What does that mean? Give me a gold, bitches.